Notes from the Cabin in the Sky, August 1, 2025

I have been informed by my offspring that there's something called a Summer Vacation and we've taken one. But there's a footnote in every dictionary. Under 'Vacation' in very fine print is noted: "Does not apply to Editors." So I brought my trusty typewriter and here we are, a short distance from the coast, complete with the sound of crashing surf and the sea air, putting the finishing touches on this week's issue.

My correspondents tell me that I've missed a lot on the Comstock this week. Epic weather and snow and hail! I do love summer storms in Nevada.

The news about the cemetery is sad. It will take a lot to repair it, but I know our community is up to the task. I hope that those responsible are brought to justice, but when it comes right down to it, these kind of people dig their own hole and there isn't a much worse fate than being themselves. Destruction for destruction's sake is a symptom of a deep sickness, and though I don't go in much for ghost stories I can't imagine that disturbing the dead is good for one's spirit.

Out here on the coast, we got homesick, so my lovely Carah found a train and we rode it up into the mountains to a town called Roaring Camp. It reminded us of the Comstock, with a nice steam engine, a railroad depot, and a print shop... but no newspaper and some rather confused looking tourists. Real tall trees, though.

We're looking forward to getting home, and will be arriving just as this issue hits the streets. I hope that there's still a towering thundercloud up there, just waiting to pour down the rain on the sagebrush surrounding the Cabin in the Sky. That electric smell of rain on sage is something the coast just doesn't have.

Signing off,

AG